


Aura Activation

by BradburyTheQueen



Series: Fate of Remnant [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas - Freeform, Created for RPG, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Fate Core System, Grimm Campaign, Major Original Character(s), Mention of abuse, RWBY Freeform, RWBY OCs, Team VLKRY, World of Remnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradburyTheQueen/pseuds/BradburyTheQueen
Summary: Valerianella needed to get out of Verde Manor. She messaged Edmund to meet her at the Olympus Academy Archery Range. Edmund gives her something to think about.
Relationships: Valerianella Verde/Edmund Royal
Series: Fate of Remnant [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032285





	Aura Activation

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a scene for our RWBY Fate Core game. This work precedes two other works, One Way or Another and The Making of Team VLKRY. This work was created with input and additions from the person who plays Edmund Royal.
> 
> This takes place 7 years prior to our campaign during the summer, when Nell is 15 years old. Edmund is a year ahead of her.

I typed the message and sent it to Edmund. “Grip it and rip it in 15.”

I grabbed my arm guard, hidden in my sock drawer and made my way out of Verde Manor.

My mom had just spent over an hour going back and forth between trying to sweet talk me and yelling at me. If somebody from the Dust Co. board hadn’t come to meet with her about the problem, she would still probably be dumping the company’s issues on me, as if they were my fault.

I always try to hold back my suggestions and opinions. Divulging them never ends in my favor. My mother has never laid a hand on me, but I feel like I’ve just been used as a punching bag. I’m buzzing with leftover nervous energy, with unarticulated anger that is brimming in the back of my head. I’m barely even conscious of the direction I’m going, just running on auto-pilot to meet Edmund at the Olympus Academy archery range.

We aren’t really supposed to be there, it’s supposed to be exclusively for Olympus cadets and it’s after hours, but asking Edmund if he wants to practice some shooting is the easiest way to get him to hang out and I need the distraction.

I sneak my way through the back of the campus. It’s easy enough. I’ve been making this trek for a few years now. Ever since Edmund started combat school, this has become the place we go to get away from our parents. I know things aren’t great between Edmund and his father because of the pressure put on him to live up to the Royal name. I of all people can understand growing up in the wake of someone who has that kind of power and influence.

I walked the long way through the woods behind the archery range to avoid any stray arrows just in case some Olympus cadet was still training, which was unlikely, but still possible. As I came up to the tree line, I scanned the range.

Edmund would barely get a slap on the wrist for being here this late. I, on the other hand, would probably be severely punished, not only by Olympus for trespassing, but by my mom for “embarrassing her.”

I could see somebody on the range splitting arrows on a single target. Not a doubt in my mind that it was Edmund, I looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then I made my way around to the shooting line. There, I find Edmund with his bow, a few different kinds of arrows, and a spare bow, slightly smaller than his with the arrow shelf on the opposite side as his.

“Thanks, Ed.”

“Of course.”

He fired one last arrow at his target and then lowered his bow.

I walked over and picked up the smaller bow and tested the draw before slowly releasing the tension in the string, knowing that if I dry fired, Edmund would probably smack me with one of the arrows that he was passing my way. I pulled one from his grip and notched it on the string as I toed the firing line.

Without a word, I fired arrow after arrow down the line toward targets that Edmund named. I hit my first target a little off center. Then, I missed the next target, and the next, and the one that followed. With my last arrow, he called for me to hit the mannequin target in the dead center of the range. I fired and hit nothing but green.

Utter frustration overtook me. I sulked back to the table that Ed had organized behind the firing line and slammed the practice bow on the metallic surface, causing a bit of an echo in the empty range. I collapsed into one of the viewing chairs before crossing my arms.

“There’s got to be more than this. More than just profit margins and feeling suffocated by my mother.” Taking out my frustration on the targets clearly wasn’t going to do the trick tonight. Especially since I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. I balled my hands into fists and confessed, “I need to be better than my mom. I need to… I don’t know.” I threw my arms in the air before leaning forward on my knees and holding my head in my hands.

Edmund looks down at me for a moment before glancing back down range towards the targets I would have normally hit. He raises his bow and fires a shot that splits the one arrow I did manage to land, the sound of the impact filling the range with a loud echo before he spoke, his voice coming out soft and hushed.

"Why do you need to be better than her Valerianella?" He picked up the discarded training bow and his hand settled over the emblem of Olympus before he extended it to me, gesturing for me to get up and continue. "A huntsman only ever needs to become better than themselves. Be yourself. Don't try to win by being better than her." 

“It’s not about winning, Ed. It’s about surviving living in my mother’s shadow. I need to be a better person than her. I cannot be like my mom.”

I take the bow from Edmund and grip it tight for a moment. He hands over one of his arrows before turning and walking towards his bag, sitting beside the table. I stand to get a better look at what he’s doing. He retrieves a People Like Grapes Soda can and glances back at me. He makes his way onto the range and stands in front of the mannequin that I failed to hit.

“Ed? What are you doing?”

Edmund placed the bright purple can on his head and said, “Shoot.”

“No way, Edmund. No way. What if I miss?”

“I know you got this, I trust you. Trust yourself.”

Contradicting him won’t stop him. I’ve hit plenty of targets before, bullseye and all. Trust.

I notch the arrow and hold it up to aim, still a little hesitant to pull back on the string. Deep breath. Focus. I cannot and I will not shoot my best friend. I will shoot the can. As my concentration and determination deepen, I pull back on the string as I can feel my body work in tandem with my mind and heart. I will not break Edmund’s trust.

A red glow begins to emanate from my body. I breathe in and as I release the breath, I release the string and watch as the arrow flies directly through the can, bursting it and causing a spray of soda as the arrow propels the carnage of the can into the forehead of the mannequin directly behind Edmund. The messiest bullseye this range has seen. The can continues to spray and leak for a moment, covering Edmund in grape soda.

My free hand flies to my mouth to cover it as I try to stifle a laugh. Edmund pauses for a moment and then cracks a smile. Only a second or two pass before the two of us are laughing out loud.

Eventually, Edmund makes his way back to the firing line to get a towel from his bag.

He rubbed the towel over his hair and neck and then continued, “Your mom doesn’t have an active Aura does she?”

“No?”

“See. You just did two things your mother can’t do. You’re stronger than you think, Valerianella. I could see your Aura from down range.”

“You saw that too? I honestly didn’t know what to expect.” I look down at my hands, which had ceased to glow after I fired the arrow.

“Through experience, training, skill, and a lot of hard work you can develop it further. Your training is paying off Valerianella. You could make a great Huntress. You could really go out there and help people. And that's why you are a better person than your mom.” He runs his hands through his hair, and looks towards the statue of his father looming over the campus, inviting those seeking strength to merge their strength with his. “Maybe you should attend Olympus. I'm sure your mom wouldn't mind you attending somewhere more structured than Atlas. She might even like the idea. Business strategy and battle strategy aren’t a far cry from each other.”

I replace the bow with Edmund’s stuff, remove my arm guard, look towards Verde Manor and then at the moon. Without looking directly at Edmund, I tell him, “I’ll think about it.”


End file.
